Back From the Future - 4/27

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Brian
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Back From the Future - 4/27

Postby Brian » Tue Apr 27, 2010 8:00 am


Brian
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Back From the Future - 4/27

Postby Brian » Tue Apr 27, 2010 8:00 am

A knock at the door catches you off-guard. Upon answering it, you're greeted by a man who says he's from the future—and he can prove it. More important, he says he has information that will save your life.

You can post your response (750 words or fewer) here.

Brian
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Back From the Future - 4/27

Postby Brian » Tue Apr 27, 2010 8:00 am

A knock at the door catches you off-guard. Upon answering it, you're greeted by a man who says he's from the future—and he can prove it. More important, he says he has information that will save your life.

You can post your response (750 words or fewer) here.

Leond
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Re: Back From the Future - 4/27

Postby Leond » Tue Apr 27, 2010 3:23 pm

I was tinkering around with some of the things in my house one day when I heard a knock on the door. No one that I knew had said that they were going to stop by that day, so I guessed that it would be a surveyor, a salesman, or at best, a Jehovah's Witness. But, being irresistibly polite, I answered the door.
Standing behind it was a fairly unremarkable man about seventy years old with a rather hurried expression on his face. Under his arm was a briefcase.
"Hello," I said.
"Hello!" he said. "Glad to have gotten to you in time!"
"I'm sorry. Do I know you?"
"Not really. That is, in a way. I mean, you will." He restarted. "All right. I'll be direct. I am you from the future."
"What?"
"It's okay if you don't believe me. I didn't when I was you. Anyway, I brought what proof I could find of it." He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a passport, a driver's license, and several other bureaucratic documents with my name and his picture on it. "And I've got the scar you got when you were six on my forehead, as you can see. You can also do the whole information-that-only-you-would-know thing."
"What's my first memory?"
"Going to the beach with our parents and seeing a school of fish going past."
"Favorite movie?"
"Citizen Kane."
I looked at him carefully, and couldn't help noticing that he did bear a strange resemblance to me. "I'll hear you out."
"That's good, because what I have to say is important. You, and by extension me, are in mortal danger."
"Go on."
He took a breath. "It's sort of my own mistake. See, you know our paternal grandfather?"
"Yes."
"Well, it's sort of like this. I was mucking about in time, and I decided to visit our great-grandfathers, who we never met. Anyway, they let me hold the baby, and I sneezed and infected him. Medical technology not being very good, he died. Ever since, a temporal paradox wave, or something, has been going forward slowly destroying our existence. Look." He pulled out an album. It was full of childhood photos. Suddenly, before my eyes, several of them vanished.
"Apparently that's what happens," he said. "But it's okay. I have a plan that can save us. You pretty much have your grandfather's DNA. If you go back in time and have sex with your grandmother, in theory you should give birth to someone close enough to your father that he'll be able to give birth to you again, which will stop us from being erased from the timeline. Are you ready to give it a try?"
Before I could explain anything, he suddenly gave me the briefcase, attached a small machine to my arm, hit a button on it, and I found myself in 1940.

I finished telling the story. My grandmother sat back in her chair in the restaurant. I couldn't help thinking that she was pretty at age 22.
"You do look kind of like the type I would marry, admittedly," she said, "but do you have any more solid proof of this?"
I slid the briefcase which contained a marriage and a birth certificate, some photos, and the tiny time machine to her. I also let her see a picture from my teen-age years disappear.
She looked over it and nodded. "Well, I hope I don't live to see the family tree of this, but I can't say no to a temporal causality loop." She smiled. "Especially when it's so cute."
Three days later, we were married. About nine months after that, my father was born, and everyone existed happily ever after.

captioner54
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Re: Back From the Future - 4/27

Postby captioner54 » Wed Apr 28, 2010 1:36 am

I hope you weren't looking for a critique becausse I really don't have one. But I did thoroughly enjoy the story and even snickered at the end. You got me hooked from your first sentence and my only regret is it had to be 750 words or less. Thanks for a few moments of sheer pleasure of reading a piece of original work!

shelleigh9
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Re: Back From the Future - 4/27

Postby shelleigh9 » Wed Apr 28, 2010 8:03 am

When A Stranger Knocks, Answer!


Stacey collapsed into her apartment. She fell against her door and throw her keys on the entry table. She was exhausted. She stared at the mountain of unpacked moving boxes looming in front of her and gave a hopeless sigh. This was her third move in six months and the thought of unpacking again seemed useless. He would find her again. Matthew always did. 'Ok, stop thinking like that', she thought , 'what was it they said at the Domestic Violence Crisis Center? Oh, hell, I don’t know and I’m too tired to care.' Just then the door supporting her shook her from her thoughts. Someone was knocking.

“Who is it?” she threw her hand up to her face and pulled it down to her mouth. 'Uhg, why did I say that? I should have just ignored it and waited for them to go away.' She was in no mood for a visitor. Besides, who would be visiting her? She was in hiding. She told no one where she was going for their own good. The door shook again. Who ever it was seemed to be desperate for her to answer. As she reached for the door knob a chill ran down her spin. She turned and grabbed her keys, sticking the longest one between her knuckles. If she had to fight she wanted to cause damage. With a deep breath she opened the door with a purpose.

She relaxed as she saw an old man standing before her. Although he was elderly, he was taller that she was. He had broad shoulders that slumped over as if they could no longer support his once large youthful frame. He wore a dark brown trench coat and a matching beret which barely concealed his brilliant white hair. His wrinkled face seemed welcoming but his eye said otherwise.

“Stacey, you need to come with me right now!”

“What?” Panic ran through her body. She prepared her keys.

“Come with me now and live or stay and die!”

Stacey froze. There was something about this Stranger that was familiar to her and not in a comforting way. His eyes and voice made the hair on her arms stand on end. Her mind and heart were in conflict with each other. One said ‘stay’ while the other said ‘go, now‘. The Stranger didn’t give her time to resolve her eternal argument. He grabbed her, knocking the keys from he grasp. He pulling her from the apartment, down the hall and out of the apartment complex.

As they stumbled onto the sidewalk, Stacey and the Stranger were nearly run down by cops running into the building, guns drawn. The Stranger pulled her clear from the stamped of blue to the safety of the sidewalk across the street. Stacey and the Stranger stood together in silence, waiting. Suddenly, there was an explosion of gun fire.

“You’ll be safe now. It’s over.”

“What?” Stacey spun to face the Stranger. As their eyes met her blood turned to ice. She knew those eyes. “Matthew!?!”

“Stacey always stays, see!”

Stacey stumble backwards over her feet at the words Matthew always taunted her with. Matthew caught her and brushed lose hair from her stunned face.

Suddenly, Matthew’s body went limp and he fell to the ground. Stacey knelt down next to him. Cradling his head in her arms. Her eyes pleading, begging for clarification.

“Fifty-eight years ago, I came here and I killed you.” His voice was raspy and filled with sorrow. Tears pooled in his eyes and his breath slowed. “I’m so sorry. I have lived a life time with what I did to you.”

“I don’t understand!”

“I was given the change to correct one mistake in my life and I choose you. It doesn’t change where I’m going but now,… I go to my damnation happily, knowing I’ve given you back the life I stole form you.”

“You did this. You call the police.”

“No one knows me better.” He smiled at her and Stacey saw the man that she first fell in love with. She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes.

“Love shouldn’t hurt, but sometimes it’s good when it does if it makes you do the right thing.” His eyes sparkled and he looked at peace as he drew his last breath.

Stacey’s heart was healing and breaking simultaneously. She needed no further clarification. She understood him.

Love can be a tool or a weapon. Use love wisely.

bkmitchell
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Re: Back From the Future - 4/27

Postby bkmitchell » Thu Apr 29, 2010 9:29 am

When the doorbell’s ringing after 3am I usually assume it’s my brother Rick looking for somewhere to have one last beer before calling it a night. This can be pretty annoying on a work day. Well last night was Tuesday and nobody rang the doorbell. I’m not accustomed to waking to pounding. But that’s what HE did. Eventually I became aware that I was not actually dreaming about pounding nails into the frame of my “dream” house, and that the sounds I was hearing were really coming from the front door.

I dragged my weary ass down the hall and flicked on the porch light. I peered through the glass window, expecting to see Rick waiting, happily drunk and looking for company.
Instead I found an awesome god of a hunk standing there. I mean seriously! This guy was dressed in tight metallic shorts, shiny black shoes and a see-through gauzy shirt. His upper body was obviously ripped. He smiled at me and motioned for me to open the door. “What do you want?” I shouted through the closed door. “My name’s Trevor. It is imperative that I to talk to you.” He shouted back.

Not wanting to let some stranger in my house at 3am I shouted, “Wait there. I’ll be right out.” I scampered back down the hall to my bedroom and threw a hoodie and some jeans over my jammies. I slipped my cell phone into the pouch of my hoodie and ran my fingers through my hair. I headed back down the hall and slipped out the front door. My godlike visitor, uhm… Trevor, was sitting on the steps waiting. He rose when I came out and gracefully crossed the porch to where I was standing, right under the porch light. I immediately started to speak.

“No time,” he interrupted me but with no trace of irritation. “You must listen to me and take what I say as the absolute truth. While it may seem unbelievable, I assure you that everything I tell you is to come. My name is Trevor Sloe and I come to you from the year 2025.” With that Trevor wrapped me into an embrace that I could only wish was that of a lover. As soon as he pulled me to him I was “taken” on a whirlwind ride of which could only be coming from his experiences. I saw hover craft on the roads and streets, and windmills on the Great Lakes. The styles of the day were surprisingly short and metallic. Strange! Looked like the Obama administration succeeded in conquering childhood obesity. Every kid on the street looked as if they were the picture of health. I saw several munching on carrot sticks and rice cakes!

As suddenly as Trevor had embraced me he released his hold. Suddenly I was back on my porch again, and I’m thinking the year was back to 2010. “Wow! How’d you do that?” I asked my godlike visitor in awe. “It does not matter. What matters is that your life is in danger. On May 1sth 2025, the day that we just visited in my time, you will die. You will be running after your child as she runs away from you after an argument. She will be 14 years old. You will be struck dead by a hovercraft as you cross the street, leaving your child an orphan. I am here to warn you. You have a higher destiny; an alternate future. Civilization depends on your survival. You must avoid this accident, not only for yourself but for mankind. Today there was a wrinkle in time that only occurs every 15 years. I had to take this one and only chance to warn you. You may wonder why. Our futures are entwined.” Trevor finished speaking suddenly. In the blink of an eye his beautiful image faded from view. I was left alone on my front porch.

I stood there for a moment, considering all that I had seen and heard. I went back inside and checked the time. 3:45 Am. I didn’t feel like I could go back to sleep. I clicked on the coffee pot and headed down the hall to the bathroom. I slid out of my jeans and pj's. I opened the medicine chest and pulled out the test kit that I had purchased the day before. Sitting down on the commode I held the stick in my urine stream. Three minutes later I had the results “ +”.

ridinaround
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RE: Back From the Future - 4/27

Postby ridinaround » Thu Apr 29, 2010 5:49 pm

:emoticon:

"Who in the world can that be at this time of the mornin'," I moaned, dragging myself out of bed. A glance at the alarm clock revealed an hour much earlier on a Saturday morning than my eyes were accustomed to seeing. The knocking was insistent, so I threw on my robe and shuffled to the door. Peering through the peephole, all that was visible was the Writer's Digest logo. A very late hour in the previous night found me hard at work on a story for a contest on www.writersdigest.com. My hand unlocked and opened the door before my brain registered what was happening.

"Good morning, sunshine! How's about inviting me in? We've got something important to discuss," the woman said while pushing her way into my living room. This unexpected person was a largish female, dressed in one of those suits with big shoulder pads that were popular in the 1980's. She waved a magazine in my face. "This could be trouble for you, my dear, big trouble. Your article is in the September issue of Writer's Digest, but that particular story is risking your life!"

"Excuse me? Who are you? What are you talkin' about?" I was befuddled.

"Ah, yes. I sometimes forget to explain myself. You see, I'm not usually in the same when as you. Oh, sorry, that isn't clear either. Look, I'm from the future and can come back in time to help folks who need help. And you, my dear, need some help."

"Help? Me? Wait a second. Let me see that. You mean they printed my story?" I asked excitedly.

"No way. You can't touch it. Just look at the date," she said, yanking the magazine out of my reach.

After waiting for me to calm down, she held the magazine up so the date could be seen. It was the September issue of Writer's Digest, all right. But the current month on my calendar showed April. With furrowed brow, the oddity of the situation sunk in to my foggy brain.

The woman plopped into my recliner and adjusted those huge shoulder pads. She fanned her face with the magazine, passing the time until I turned a worried glance in her direction.

"You are writing a story. It's about when you were a juror on a trial, right kiddo?"
Nodding slightly, still in disbelief, I confirmed this was indeed correct. Several years before this strange Saturday morning, I served on a jury for a kidnapping case. This defendant was a really bad guy—we, the jury, happily convicted him. The judge handed down the sentence several weeks later and we never found out how long the offender would be in prison. The woman nodded, as if she could read my mind.

"Dearie-dear, that fellow is out of the pen and just itching to get his hands on the jurors who put him behind bars. If this article is published, he'll know just how to find you and…" A quick movement of her index finger horizontally across her neck successfully delivered the balance of the disturbing message.

"Oh. Oh my! So, let me get this straight. You came here, to my house, from the future because an article of mine won a Writer's Digest contest and if that article actually is printed, that guy might come after me?"

"You got it, sweetie. So, what are you going to do?"

"Gotta punt, I guess. But, it's actually tempting to go ahead with the kidnapping story, if it won the contest! I mean, I do have a gun." The woman looked alarmed, rising from the chair and again adjusting the shoulder pads. I remembered they were a pain to deal with and wondered if they were coming back in style. "Oh, don't worry. I hear ya'. I'll just have to write about somethin' else. But what?"

The woman looked thoughtful for a moment before casting a mischievous glance in my direction. "How's about a fun little story about a sweet, beautiful lady who came back in time to save your life?" she asked semi-innocently. We chuckled together.
"Hey, yeah. That might just work. Say, what's your name?"
"Don't worry, dearie, you'll find out…someday!" With that comment, she exited my house, taking the magazine with her. Quite excited, I grabbed a Dr Pepper out of the fridge and turned on the computer. After saving the kidnapping article for future use—when the location of the offender was certain—I settled in to write a new story.
:)

ridinaround
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Re: Back From the Future - 4/27

Postby ridinaround » Thu Apr 29, 2010 6:11 pm

:) :) :) :) :)

ridinaround
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Re: Back From the Future - 4/27

Postby ridinaround » Thu Apr 29, 2010 6:14 pm

I'm trying to reply to the first post, but can't get it to do. Really enjoyed it! :emoticon:

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